Today was the third day of our second term. It was also the third day of our newfound schedule. I want to post about our schedule...about how I've learned that the children having their own schedule to carry around was very helpful yesterday. I want to share the order we've found this year and how it is so very freeing to me.
But I can't to write about that today. Today my schedule was broken, my plan disrupted, and my soul almost unraveled. This is the story I want to tell.
While eating breakfast, I gave the girls their own task. Since my foot is fractured, I can't walk or stand as much as usual. So I gave them the job of making the crescent rolls for dinner. I explained how to roll them out, how to butter them (lavishly) and how to cut them into triangles and roll them back up. This, they have all done before with help. Today would be their first day going it alone. It was a proud moment for me as I tried to hand over a task I knew they could handle...until it began...
The unfairness of who was doing what, the discontent utterances, the flailing four-year old...I almost gave up and resolved to do it myself. I about handed out a consequence of no cooking and made them believe they are incapable.
But instead I grabbed by Bible. I read about envy and self-seeking and the confusion and unhappiness that accompany. I read about being transformed and about choosing to be happy with the tasks handed to us.
The clock ticked as I launched into the story of Corrie Ten Boom and how all she could do was hold out her hand and the Lord was faithful to supply forgiveness in her heart. I assured them that if we would only hold out our hands and hearts, God would be faithful to supply good will towards the sister deemed bearer of the yeast.
Then, quite suddenly, we were propelled into World War II and The Holocaust. Before I knew it, I was helping them start their own lists of things for which they can give thanks. The clock continued to tick, my checklist stood blank, yet minds were active and hearts were being filled.
I added to my own journal and there, among the words, I scratched boldly, "broken schedule."
It's always the broken, disrupted, and cast aside that are used for His glory. And it is no different with our best-laid plans.
My oldest ended up finishing most of her schoolwork, although she insisted on three days of grammar (I have no idea where she gets that...ahem...) and now they are at a neighbor's making play dough.
As for me, I have much to accomplish today...too many things went undone as my schedule unraveled before me. But "today" are the days I love my job the most. When I think it's all falling apart...when my spirit is almost unraveled...when I choose to give thanks and open the Word instead of give reprimand and open my mouth...these are the times the Lord opens my eyes to the glorious wonder of things undone.
I'm learning, slowly, to hold loosely to my plans and tightly to the cross. After all, it's the clinging that frees us, redeems us, and makes us whole.